Return to Me
by Sev's-Apprentice
Summary: Fable II; Reaver and Anne ,or "Sparrow", have a fleeting romance before the final battle with Lucien at the Spire. He leaves her heartbroken to travel with Garth to Samarkand but returns four years later. Rated M for future chapters.
1. AN and Disclaimer

**Author's Note/Disclaimer: **I'm only saying it once and it'll carry throughout my entire story. None of the characters are mine, most of the plot, my concept of Sparrow and the romance between Reaver and FemSparrow is. All the stuff that isn't mine belongs to Lionhead Studios and Microsoft.


	2. Chapter 1: Return

Return to Me

(Anne [Sparrow]'s POV)

I almost couldn't believe the situation I had found myself in. Six months to the day, it had been. Six months since I lost everything: my friends, Hammer and Garth, my mentor, and Chase, my faithful companion. What did I have left? Oh. I had the gratitude of all the people of Albion. I almost always forget that one. Not that I didn't appreciate their thanks, because I sincerely did. I guess it was because I lost something that I don't exactly know how to explain.

My life had never been simple. From the age of 8, I had been raised with a master plan and it was _not_ the ordinary plan most children had. I had a serious goal to accomplish and a mad man to defeat. Throughout the early years, everything was simple. Train during the days and learn from Theresa after the sun had gone away. I never quite fit in with the gypsy children, but that was because they knew, instinctively, that I was not like them. I would've been alone if not for Chase who had stuck with me after leaving Bowerstone.

At 18, I left the gypsy camp to forge my own destiny and to come into my own as a Hero. I won't go into that, for I'm sure that by now everyone knows _that_ particular story. After all, not every woman has their own statue… several for that matter. Now, at 32 I look out on the horizon of Bloodstone. The very place I hated to be four years ago has become the place I can't get away from. I won't lie and say that the city has some particular charm… because it doesn't. The_ manor_ certainly does.

(Reaver's POV)

Chuckling to myself, I disembarked from the _Sunken Galleon_. The ship wasn't exactly to my taste, but it wasn't _mine_ to begin with. Ah well, the captain was at rest somewhere beneath the waves. His crew wasn't very loyal as they wavered to my demands immediately. Of course, _that _might have something to do with the fact that I shot their captain as he was bellowing out orders to leave port back in Samarkand.

Garth had been very wrong about Samarkand. It had been _far_ too easy to find the "fun" bits. I would miss those nights dearly, but I _did_ have a town to run and a… _bargain_ to keep up. Thankfully, the deal with… my _friends_ in Wraithmarsh only had to be kept up every five years, so I was right on schedule. Walking through the streets of Bloodstone reminded me of why I loved this place. Various prostitutes of either sex followed me towards the manor, professing their love, attraction, and outright lust. _It's good to be home._

Arriving in my courtyard, I was almost astonished to find the lights of the manor were ablaze and that there was someone sitting on my balcony. It was then that I remembered that I had put the manor up for sale with a stalwart promise to kill whoever had managed to secure it. _After all_, I thought savagely, _whoever that is most likely knows my secrets and we can't have that, can we?_ I pulled my pistol from its holster and prepared to fire when I saw exactly who it was sitting up there.

"_Sparrow?" _

(Anne's POV)

I continued to play in my hair for a bit longer. It really had grown too long in these last few years. I thought about cutting it once in the past; thinking that it would be easier to manage, but found I couldn't. It was almost…painful. Closing my eyes, I lost myself in the world of memory.

I was 28, young but not as headstrong as I had been at 18. Ten years in the Spire tend to do that to you. The torture I had seen and experienced in that place would stay with me forever. I can't remember being so grateful to see Theresa since she had saved me as a child. It didn't take me long after landing to see that Chase was with her, his tail wagging furiously as he fought to stay by her side until I made it to the dock.


	3. Chapter 2: The Past

*Flashback (4 years ago)*

"Well, I guess this is where I leave; I have much work to do." Garth said in his usual cryptic fashion. Of course, I knew what he meant. By "work" he meant planning to get his revenge on Lucien. But unlike Garth, _I_ knew that he wasn't going anywhere. I'm sure he saw Theresa standing there as Chase bounded up to us. I'm also sure that he had no clue why the seeress was there.

I watched with an amused smirk as she sauntered her way over to us. That smirk grew into a full-fledged grin as I listened to her give him the same speech she gave Hammer, with a slight twist just for him. I waited a moment, to watch them disappear as she teleported them both to the Chamber of Fate, before digging through my bag for my normal clothes. I wanted nothing more than to burn my Spire Guard uniform, so I dressed hurriedly. Pulling on my long black trousers, brown boots, and old red shirt, I stood and dumped the uniform on the ground with a strange smile.

Taking a moment to watch the evil garb burn, I almost laughed before running back toward Rookridge. Theresa had hinted that Hammer waited for me at the Lucky Heather and I was excited to see my best friend yet again. Although she insisted on being called Hammer, I could never abide by that and had firmly stuck to calling her Hannah. A few hours later, Chase and I had left the green of Oakfield behind us and now stared at the Temple of Shadows. Even from this far a distance, the place still gave me shivers.

I shook my feelings off and walked down the road towards the lone tavern. We didn't get far before Chase ran off ahead and began growling menacingly. I knew what that meant: _trouble_. As predicted, four bandits stepped from behind rocks and abandoned mine carts, brandishing swords and looking excited. I let out a short laugh before unsheathing my beloved cutlass. The laugh seemed to unhinge them for a moment before they yelled out and rushed toward me. I smiled; the dance had begun. Weaving through their misguided stabs and swings, I cut them down in no time at all. When I looked back at the pile of corpses, a wolfish grin made its way onto my face. Blood was all over the surrounding area, but not a drop had landed on me. I'd never admit it, but I _loved_ the adrenaline rush from combat.

"Just can't avoid fighting, can you?" an amused voice rang out in front of me. Hammer stood with her customary warhammer and a broad smile on her face. I noticed her clothing had changed; she had added bits of armor into it, but battle never would suit her in my eyes. I would always remember when we had met. She had looked so peaceful, sitting on that wall, singing to herself. Then I had come and battle had taken a swift foothold into her life.

"It's good to see you, Hannah. You're looking well." Her smile grew wider and she shook her head.

"After all these years, only you still call me Hannah." She cut, off laughing. "Well, you and the monks back at the temple, anyway. I went back there while you were gone. Same old rubbish; silly men devouring superstitious nonsense from ancient books. Some things never change." She waited a moment to see if I would speak, but I had nothing to say on the subject. Then, she laughed again. "And _you_ haven't changed either, Anne. Still letting me do all the talking, eh? You always were a quiet one, I suppose."

"Still calling me Anne, huh? Most of the world is becoming convinced that I'm getting to old to be called 'Sparrow', but it was my sister's nickname for me and old habits die hard, I'm afraid." We shared a grin before walking towards the tavern.

"Well, it's really great to see you, anyways. I couldn't have done what you did, that's for sure. I can't begin to imagine what you saw in there."

"I can't begin to describe it, so we're even," I said, effectively closing the subject. Hannah knew not to continue when I spoke like that. I couldn't tell her everything I saw, everything I had experienced in the Spire. I didn't really want to think about it just then anyway. "Has Theresa told you where the third Hero is?"

"Nope, she left it to me," Hannah said smiling proudly. I gathered from the smile that she had found the answer, so I waited for her to unveil her grand discovery. I was left waiting, too.

"Are you going to tell me?"

"No can do. I'm waiting until I get back to the Chamber to tell everyone. Plus, I'm still waiting to meet the great 'Hero of Will' as well." I smiled as I imagined the meeting Garth and Hannah would have. It would be..._interesting_ to say the least.

"Oh, I think you'll like Garth. Just listen to what Theresa has to tell you about him first; it'll help you… get to know him better."

"Alright, I'll see you back at the Chamber then," she said lightly before running out of the tavern. _Hmm,_ I thought to myself, _I wonder if I should've told her that Garth can be…somewhat annoying… Nah, she'll figure it out soon enough._ I laughed quietly into my ale as I made my way to my room for the night.

~The Next Morning~

I arrived in the Chamber of Fate to find Hannah and Garth arguing. I almost laughed until Theresa looked in my direction sharply. _Sometimes I wonder how she knows exactly where I am with her eyes like that._ I got a strange feeling that she knew what I was thinking so I turned instead to the fight before me.

"Hmm… Theresa told me that you would be impatient and short-sighted, but she _did not_ tell me of your fleeting wit." Garth said in his typical 'the world is so boring' voice. I chuckled; Garth was wrong in thinking he could disguise his insult with pretty words. Hannah may be a large woman, be she was _far_ from stupid.

"Oh yeah?" Hannah challenged. "Did she also tell you that I like to take a hammer and whack smug little spell-flingers?!" That's when I knew it was time to step in; when Hannah made references to her weapon, her temper was at its peak.

"Ok, guys, this isn't solving anything. We're all on the same side here, so let's focus on our next objective, shall we?" I looked from Hannah to Garth, mentally willing both of them to put their differences aside.

"Fine," Hannah said before moving to stand at my side. I smiled at her thanks while Garth moved back toward Theresa. _He_, however, said nothing. I assumed that silence was his way of agreeing.

"Now that you are through fighting," Theresa began, "I believe Hammer has some information for us." Hannah's mouth dropped for a moment and I'm sure we were both thinking the same thing: _How the bloody hell had she known that?!_ Hannah regained her composure and she set her warhammer on the ground before speaking.

"Right; I've been doing a bit of traveling since you were gone, Sparrow." I was taken aback by her use of my nickname until her eyes shifted towards Garth. I smiled; she didn't want him to know my real name. I nodded and she continued. "I've been traveling between towns gathering information, taverns specifically, and I think I know who our third Hero is."

"You know this based on information gathered among drunks? Very astute," Garth said wryly. Hannah's eyes flashed dangerously, but she looked back to me and continued.

"Yes, _Garth_," she said, grounding his name out, "I learned this information in taverns, from drunks. Anyway, I think our third Hero is this pirate called Reaver."

"A pirate?" Garth asked. A look from Hannah shut him up once more. I shook my head; _He'll learn to stop playing with her temper soon enough_.

"Yes. A pirate. This bloke, Reaver, he makes a shot and never misses. He would capture ships by shooting the Captain from across the water no matter the distance or conditions. The more impossible the shot was the faster the crew would surrender." There was a moment of silence while the three of us thought the possibilities over. Garth opened his mouth to say something, but Hannah resumed her grip on her warhammer and he thought better of it.

"Well I guess that settles it," I said evenly. "This _Reaver_ is our final addition. But one question remains: where is he?"

"Reaver resides in the port town of Bloodstone, which has its roots in the camp of the Bandit King Twinblade," Theresa explained. She had a knack for telling you what you wanted to know and everything you didn't. "Bloodstone is bordered by Wraithmarsh on three sides and ocean on the fourth."

"We can reach it by Cullis Gate." Garth said suddenly.

"Not from this one," said Theresa, "It only leads to Hero Hill."

"I built one," Garth replied smugly, "at my home in Brightwood. It can get us there." I wasn't surprised by that or by his smugness. I knew from our dealings in the Spire that Garth was not only a master of the Will, he was also highly intelligent and a proud scholar. It was all I could do not to roll my eyes.

"Well then, _your grace_, if you'd be so kind as to lead us there," Hannah said.

"Barbarian," was Garth's only reply before stepping onto the Cullis Gate with Hannah following close behind. I shook my head before teleporting after them. _This is going to be a long trip._


	4. Chapter 3: Wraithmarsh, Finding Reaver

~In Wraithmarsh~

I looked down at the corpse of the crazed old man who had trapped me within that dreadful cage. He seemed undecided about whether or not he should _skin_ me or other horrid ideas. Whatever had killed him had come with the fog and I held my left hand ready in case I should need to fire a quick spell. Hearing a whimper near my feet, I reached down to pet Chase when what looked like a woman appeared before me.

Her face was hooded and she was robed in red. On closer inspection she seemed to be… _crying_? I began to walk closer when I saw that she _floated in midair._ I tried quickly to remember what I had learned from Theresa's vast books on creatures that were supposed to inhabit this area and it finally clicked: I had stumbled upon a _Banshee_. I knew that most people unlucky enough to see one didn't survive.

"Ah, so now comes young Sparrow…" she taunted in an eerily dry voice. I felt a momentary flicker of fear before I decided to answer.

"Indeed," I replied, "I have." I was grateful that my voice sounded much stronger than my spirit. For some reason, I didn't want her to know how afraid I was.

"What would Rose say to see you now; to know all that you have done?" She paused and raised her empty hood to me, as if she had eyes and could see. "Would you want her to know of those you have killed to reach this moment? Do you think she would be proud?" My heart clenched with those words. Fleetingly, I saw my sister's face as it had been all those years ago. She had a look of horror on her face as she looked at me. Looking at myself, I saw blood all around me. _What _would_ Rose think of the mighty Sparrow?_ I shivered as a voice that was not mine made itself known in my head.

I don't know how long I allowed the Banshee's spell to take hold of me. From somewhere off in the distance, I heard a bark. My eyes snapped open when I realized that it was Chase. He was barking and snarling at these strange little black figures that were attacking him. I saw then that the Banshee controlled them and my anger grew.

"You vile, wicked creature," I said in a low growl. "You tormented me with those visions of my sister so that you could have a better chance of attacking us. I have to give you points for imagination, but the time for games has ended and one of us will not leave this place." As Chase finished off the last of the black creatures, I concentrated on a flame deep within myself. Drawing the power out, I flung out my hands and a large fireball connected with the Banshee, burning her rags and forcing an unearthly scream from her throat. I watched as she reverted to a bright light and then nothing.

"Never forget that beneath the fame and glory you enjoy as Sparrow, you are still Anne. Still just small, frightened Anne. Your sister cannot protect you now…" The Banshee's last words floated to me and stuck in my heart. I almost wondered if there was any truth in her words, but there were stirrings from the wet ground around us and I knew that there was more fighting to be done.

~Several Hours Later~

I took a moment to rest inside of an old house that still contained a bed. Exhausted, drained, whatever word there was couldn't have described me at that point. Not only were there sores of undead in this _charming_ little place, but there was a damn troll as well. If I hated anything in all of Albion, it was _trolls_. I hurriedly uncorked a vial of healing potion and downed the contents. Immediate relief flooded my senses as the pain was washed away so that fatigue was all that remained. Before kicking off my mud-encrusted boots, I rummaged around in my bag and dug out some dog treats and tossed them to Chase. I turned grateful eyes onto my companion; he had saved my life at least twice that night. I gathered up my long coat and spread it over me as I succumbed to sleep.

(General POV)

If the sun rose over Wraithmarsh, it was not to be seen. Though she could tell it was morning, Sparrow had yet to believe it for the dreary blackness of Wraithmarsh was the same as when she had gone to sleep. Stretching nimbly she glanced between the map in her hand and the scene outside of the window. If the markings were correct, it wasn't far at all to the crypt which contained the passage to Bloodstone. _Who in the bloody hell had the bright idea to make the passageway through a damn crypt anyway, _she thought savagely. Too many nightmares of the Balverine attack in the catacombs that led to Westcliff colored her thoughts.

After fishing a dog treat and some carrots out of her bag, Sparrow called to Chase and they set off through the mist. Not long afterwards, there was a terrible squelching noise as three undead rose through the ground in front of them. Sparrow glanced down at them while an odd smile graced her features. _This'll be easy._

The zombies lumbered toward the steadfast pair and Sparrow suddenly lunged forward, slamming her palms into the mud. Then, everything around her stilled as the spell took effect. She smiled, unsheathed her sword, and the dance began anew. Moments later, the ground was covered in bone fragments and shreds of already tattered clothing. Sparrow dusted her hands and continued on to Bloodstone.

~Bloodstone~

(Anne's POV)

_Ugh._

What in Albion was that _awful_ stench?! At the indignant look from the half-clothed prostitute next to me, I uncovered my face. _I guess that's how it always smells here._ A bell-like sound reached my ears and I groaned. Pulling out my guild seal, I saw it was glowing faintly.

I muttered to myself, "What does Theresa want _now_?"

I forgot she could hear me.

"What I _want_ is of no consequence. What you need to _know_ is," was her dry response.

"Forgive me, Theresa. Are Hannah and Garth alright?" I was worried since only Chase and I had made it through the Cullis Gate.

"They are fine. Garth has managed to find a ship that will take them to Bloodstone. They will be there in a few days, which will give you time to complete your first task." Just what I wanted: _another_ damn task. "Reaver lives in the largest house in Bloodstone, but be cautious: He is _not_ what he seems."

"Is there anything else?" The seal was silent, so I suppose she was done. I shoved it back in my pocket and started looking for a food stall because I had eaten my last carrot that morning. I would be sorely disappointed as the only food stalls in Bloodstone either sold some variation of meat or pie. _Being a vegetarian in this world is so hard sometimes._ While looking around for Reaver's _enormous_ house, I accidentally ran into someone.

"Hey! Watch where you're…" The woman's threat trailed off as she continued to look at me. "What's with the weird blue tattoos everywhere? I've never seen nothing like that…" I flashed a dangerous smile and remembered that the people of Albion seemed to be terrified of magic.

"These are not tattoos. The blue lines you see are the mark of a will user." Here I paused for dramatic effect. "The mark… of an _experienced_ will user." Hearing this, her eyes widened and she practically _fled_. I loved it when my will lines scared people. I was also tired of walking. I went to the tavern, where I knew I'd find some answers. The place was crawling with prostitutes and pirates; the alliteration amused me but my chuckles drew stares. Ignoring this, I stood upon a table. "Who here can show me to Reaver's house?" I was a bit shocked that all the prostitutes squealed, disturbingly male _and_ female, and rushed to me.

"Honey, I can show you _more_ than just his house…" the one nearest me whispered into my ear. I shivered involuntarily at the close contact, but nevertheless gestured for her to lead the way. "Reaver is not a normal man, you know," she said as we walked.

"Really now? Why not? Does he have an extra head?" I _really_ did not want to know anything _she_ was going to say concerning him.

"Something like that," she giggled. _Just what I wanted to hear: tales of someone else's sexual indulgences._ I groaned inwardly as she babbled on. "Oh, you'll see; he's just _wonderful_…" She sighed and I happily assumed she was daydreaming and would finally shut up. In what seemed like no time at all, we arrived at his door.


End file.
